Draven watched, for the first time in his life, as an angel flew to towards the palace gates. “Angels”, Lezabel said, shaking her head. “Always so entitled.” Draven rolled his eyes,“Angels are pure creatures, they aren’t that bad.” Lezabel stared up at him in disbelief. “Do I seriously have to remind you about the ‘Great War’?“, she asked, smacking Draven’s head. Draven turned to look at Lezabel, his eyes cold once again. “No, I don’t need your to remind me. And for your information, demons started that war”, he said, blue eyes gleaming. “Seems like you’re the one that needs to pay attention in history class.” Lezabel made a face of hurt and annoyance but Draven ignored it. “Angels aren’t entitled creatures. At least, Evelyn isn’t.” “You’ve got to be kidding me”, Lezabel yelled. “What’s gotten into you?” She forcefully turned him to face her. “Do you not hear yourself right now?” Lezabel asked, yelling. Draven rolled his eyes again. “Yes, I do hear myself”, he replied, annoyed. “Then, why the hell are you standing up for angels? Do you not understand what they did to your homeland?” she asked. “I grew up”, Draven answered, pissed. “I learnt to not hate them just because they are the opposites of demons. You can’t blame the current generation for what their ancestors did. It was a war, both sides have committed huge acts that were horrific. The most we can do now is learn to set aside our differences and continue to rebuild the era of peace the world experienced before the war started”, Lezabel’s eyes widened and as she opened her mouth to retort, Draven simply turned away from her and walked towards the throne room. “I wanna get out of here. I wanna be free from this mess.”
As Draven walked into the throne room, he noticed that only Lazarus was in the room. “Where’s everyone else?“, Draven asked. Lazarus turns to him, eyes cloudy again. “They’ve already heard the message, so they left”, he answered. “I saw you weren’t here, so I waited.” Draven gave a small smile of gratitude. “Thank you.” Lazarus nodded and the two brothers walked out of the throne room. “Oh and don’t worry, Mother isn’t mad you missed the message”, Lazarus said, playing with his fingers. Draven let out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank Satan.” “Anyway, the spiritual awakening for the Princess was a phoenix”, Lazarus says. Draven stopped walking. “Did they say what type of phoenix?” he asked. Lazarus shook his head, “Apparently, it’s a rare but demonic spiritual aura. The messenger was too scared to say anything.” Draven’s eyes widened. “The Phoenix Ghost.” Lazarus smiles, knowing his brother has figured it out. “But that’s impossible”, Draven exclaimed. “The Phoenix Ghost hasn’t been seen in over 4 000 years. The last one was killed during the Great War. It was said the Phoenix Ghost killed over 2 legions of Heavenly troops.” Lazarus continues to walk, with Draven running to catch up to him.
“The Emperor’s spiritual aura is the Golden Dragon”, Lazarus said, walking towards the library. “Which means, the Princess’ mother was either a demon with a bird for a spiritual aura or a human.” Draven opened the door to the library. “Well either way, the Phoenix Ghost will finally return to Hell, where it truly belongs”, Draven said. Lazarus looks around before entering the library. “Let’s go to the Memory Chamber. I’m sure there is collection that gives us an insight on who the last Phoenix Ghost was and what happened to her after the war. Something tells me that she didn’t actually die during the war”, Lazarus says, making his way towards the back of the library. Draven tails after his older brother, watching as Lazarus moves a book aside. “The lock needs a blood offering”, Lazarus said, glaring at the palm-shaped lock. Draven made way to place his hand on the lock but Lazarus pushes him out of the way and summons his spiritual aura, the Devil’s Axe. He places the axe on his palm and cuts a deep wound into his hand. Draven does his best not to wince.
Lazarus places his hand on the lock and allows the blood to flow into the hole. A door opens and reveals a narrow hallway. “Draven, blow some ice on the wound”, Lazarus says, wincing at his wound. Draven summoned his spiritual aura, Frozen Dragon, and blows a hiss of cold fog on Lazarus’ hand. “Hopefully that eases the pain for a bit”, he says, concerned. Lazarus smirks,“I’m not a child Draven.” Draven smiles lightly, thinking, “I keep forgetting that demons with orange eyes are ruder then normal.” The two siblings trot through the hallway, only to see the door at the end to be opened. Lazarus ran up to the door and banged the door open. “Chill buddy, it’s just us”, said Volmas, eyes widened at the sudden noise. Ogon walked over to Lazarus and noticed the wound. “How much blood did you give?“, he asked while summoning his spiritual aura, the Fragile Peony. Lazarus sat down on a chair as Ogon heals the bleeding wound. “Thank Satan Draven cleaned the wound and limited the pain”, Ogon said, wrapping up the wound. “Otherwise, the wound would’ve infected.”
“I hate to bother y’all but I think I’ve found the memory”, Abigor says, holding up a bottle with a strange violet liquid inside. The other brothers walk to surround Abigor as he summoned his spirit, the Elegant Peacock. He placed the bottle in the middle of the table and pushes energy into the vile. The other princes do the same, summoning their spiritual auras and blasting the energy into the vile. With a blinding flash of light, a beautiful figure appeared, standing where the bottle was standing. She glided down to meet Draven’s eyes. The figure smiles and walks back to the centre. “What a pleasant surprise”, she says. “The princes of Hell have come to visit me.” Volmas steps forward, his spiritual aura, the Werewolf of the Moon, still circling his body. “Great Phoenix Ghost, we ask for you to show us a memory of yours”, he says. The woman smiles, glides down, and pats Volmas’ head. “Which memory would you like to see?” she asks. “And please, call me Mara.” Draven looks around the room and steps forward, “Please take us to the moment you supposedly died.” Mara smirks,“My death was quite tragic, I’ll give you that.” Abigor chuckles, “I can’t suppose it was that bad.” Lazarus smacks Abigor’s head, making him feel a dizzy sensation pass through his body. “Don’t be rude”, Lazarus grunted.
“Says you, mister ‘listen to me before I smack your ass’“, Abigor retorts. Lazarus glares at Abigor but says nothing. “I see that you two are done”, Mara says, glancing up from her nails. “And in case you are wondering, I was torn to pieces by my husband’s wife.” Draven couldn’t prevent an emotion of pity from slipping onto his face. “It is normal for both Heaven and Hell to have harems but I never thought it would go to that extent. I’ll only marry one person, and that person will be Evelyn.” “But, as you’ve requested, we will go visit the scene of my supposed death, the final battle of the war”, Mara continues, dancing in circles while releasing swirls of lavender from her hands. As she makes her way back to the princes, the hidden room fades away and changes into the battlefield. Ogon gasps while surveying the ground, littered with severed limbs and dead bodies. The siblings watched as an angel and demon clashed in mid-air, causing an extreme blast that could be felt for miles. Draven watched in horror as two heads and limbs fell from the sky. “The history books we read as kids is nothing compared to this.” “That is me right there”, Mara pointed at the younger version of herself. The younger version of Mara had beautiful violet eyes and long, sleek black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. As she turned over to look like she was looking at the group, Draven noticed her eyes. “Those eyes are the same shade as Evelyn’s.”